


Carb Santa - SFW

by AngeliqueNothing



Series: Bang! Shorts [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series, Harley Quinn (Comics), Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Consenting Adults, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, F/M, Harleen Quinzel - Freeform, Harley Quinn - Freeform, Healthy Joker/Harleen Quinzel, Jarley - Freeform, Jarley Freeform, Joker (DCU) Played by Jared Leto, Non-violent Joker, Nonabusive Joker and Harley, POV Alternating, POV Harley Quinn, POV Joker (DCU), Swearing, Wordcount: 5.000-10.000, Wordcount: Under 10.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 05:02:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29745411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeliqueNothing/pseuds/AngeliqueNothing
Summary: Harley and her Mistah J go to New Orleans, Louisiana (NOLA) in the middle of summer for a holiday, and insanity ensues. She feels the need to day-drink responsibly and convinces Joker that she needs to help others do the same! Thus, she becomes their Carb Santa while there!This is the Safe for Work version of the work by the same name, so no need to read this one if you're currently reading the NSFW version! This is likely to be the only SFW story that I write, so enjoy! If you want more and wished this had gratuitous smut, then...oh my, would you look at that?! I've got several stories that you'll thoroughly enjoy!
Relationships: Jarley Relationship, Joker (DCU) & Harley Quinn, Joker (DCU)/Harleen Quinzel
Series: Bang! Shorts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2173848
Kudos: 2





	1. A New Adventure

**Author's Note:**

> This is for A and K, and was changed from its original gratuitous smut form just for them (though I hope others that read non-explicit Jarley fanfic will enjoy it as well). It's K's fault that this story happened at all, so blame her!!

She was elated. Ecstatic. Euphoric. Elastic? No. No, that wasn’t quite right! Though it was true in a sense, she supposed.

She couldn’t _believe_ her luck! Even _Harleen_ was humming in the recesses of her mind! That _never_ happened!! This was better than that time Mistah J took her to Disneyland. Who would have thought he’d beat _that_?!

Not even the sad sight of Joker with plain brown hair and tanned skin sans all of his glorious tattoos (save for the laughter running up his forearm, thankfully!) could take away from her excitement. Really, Joker as “Jack” was pretty, and it was the way she’d met him, but it wasn’t the man that she’d fallen in love with. She knew that they needed to look all normal and plain, but nothing would take this mood from her!

She was on cloud nine, over the moon, in seventh heaven, and happy as a clam as their private plane touched down on the tarmac. How could she _not_ be when they’d be staying on the nice quiet side of Bourbon near the old Ursuline Convent?! They’d even be in town for the Red Dress Run, and she had her and J’s outfits all picked out and had even made sure to pack a red tie for Johnny, who had come ahead of them with his wife.

As soon as she’s through the doors of their place on Royal Street with its little green shutters and amazingly intricate balcony, she’s dashing all around and is up the stairs in a flash. She’s fairly certain she hears J mutter something about heart palpitations and her being the death of him, but she ignores him as those aren’t new comments, and she wants to see the little place he’d found for them.

The place is bigger than she’d have expected from the outside, with several rooms on each of the upper floors, a large kitchen, gorgeous exposed brick, and original hardwood floors and plastering. It wasn’t extravagant like some of their other hideouts but felt intimate somehow, even with the opulence. And thankfully, Joker had figured out how to add air conditioning to the house, combating the extreme heat and humidity of New Orleans in the summertime. Something they’d both need sorely after a day covered in makeup to hide their bleached skin and various tattoos, even if the spray-tans would cut down on the amount of makeup they needed daily.

Racing back down the stairs to the first floor, she practically flies from the last step into Joker’s arms, chirping, “You’re the best, Puddin.’”

Looking pleased as punch, he shrugs as if it’s no big thing and asks, “You like it, then?” That question lets her know exactly how nervous he was to bring her here, and she smiles, running a hand through his hair as the other rests on his chest.

“I absolutely love it, Pud’,” she tells him. Such a silly man to worry about something like that. She’d think after all this time, he’d know that as long as she was with him, anywhere would be perfect. Hell, even _Arkham_ was acceptable, as long as they were locked up together!

Running his hands through her riotous brunette curls (ugh, she’d _kill_ to have her blonde back!), he smiles indulgently down at her and asks what she’d like to do first. Well, she _knows_ what she’d like to do _first_ , but maybe that would wait till later?

It’s like he can feel the mischief coursing through her veins as he pulls her close and runs his nose up her carotid artery. Really, this man had a _sense_ for when she was feeling frisky. Throwing her over his shoulder, he smacks her ass once as she giggles and places her hands on his hips to steady herself. Walking up the stairs, he throws her onto the bed in the largest of the rooms on the second floor, and she squeals as she hits the mattress and bounces once.

Really, you’d think joining the mile-high club would be enough to satiate them both, but it was never enough…for either of them.

After they’d cooled off enough that she was finally able to breathe normally, Harley stretched her arms over her head languidly as she decided what she wanted to do with the rest of their day. Maybe hydrate, eat a bunch of carbs and fresh local fish before starting an evening of music, drinking, and more carbs?

Rolling over onto her stomach and placing her head in her hands, she stares at Joker in this guise. He was already half-asleep with an arm thrown over his eyes, his mouth open as his chest rose and fell evenly. Seeing him so exhausted that he’s able to fall asleep right after a bit of fun, she wonders if his recent bout of insomnia was due to his nerves over this trip. Though he’d sprung it on her last-minute, it was clearly something he’d been working on for some time, if the state of the house was anything to go by. Shaking her head at the silly man, she puts her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and closes her eyes.

xxxxxx

He wakes to a pillow being thrown at his face and tries to use it to cover his face and go back to sleep when he feels _another_ pillow thrown at him, finally prompting him to pry an eye open to stare balefully at his partner.

“Come _oooon_ , there’s a whole city waiting for us, and I’m _starving_ ,” she whines at him with her hands on her hips. She’s practically fully dressed, and he can’t help admiring the sight. Tiny little bright green underpinnings that barely covered anything, fishnet stockings held up by a matching green garter belt, and gold stilettos with ankle straps. He can see the dark purple dress hung against the wardrobe, and he can’t help the smile that stretches across his face.

“My colors, huh? I thought we agreed to be in-con-s _picuous_ while we’re here, doll,” he purrs.

She raises an eyebrow at him, cocks her hip, and primly tells him, “they’re the city’s colors, you narcissist.” He can hear the fondness in her voice that belies the words, and he puts his head back down on the pillow for a moment before sitting up.

He dresses simply in slacks and a deep burgundy button-down shirt rolled up to his elbows, throwing on a pair of aviator sunglasses at the last minute to combat the sun that’s somehow still shining through the windows.

Walking out the front door, he’s almost tempted to turn right back around and stay in with Johnny as he’s assaulted with the heat when Harley steps up behind him and pushes him further onto the sidewalk and away from the doors.

“Nope, not gonna happen. I need you to keep me safe while I drink my weight in alcohol!” she chirps behind him, placing her hands on his waist.

Turning to her, he looks at her quizzically. She wasn’t a huge drinker, preferring grape soda or other fruity concoctions that had almost no alcohol in them, so her proclaiming a need to drink her weight in alcohol was curious indeed. Shrugging, he steps fully away from their door while Harley pops her head in one last time to holler at Johnny and his wife to have fun for the evening.

It was almost odd being Jack again. He had only donned the disguise a few times over the years, most notably while courting Harley and the Disneyland trip that had almost ended in disaster. Hooking his arm around Harley’s shoulders, he kisses the top of her head before letting her lead the way. He knew she had a list of places she wanted to hit during the time they were here, so he let her lead.

Day quickly fell into night, and the temperature finally began to drop. Harley had eaten her weight in pasta and fish, just like he knew she’d wanted, and now the fun could begin. Really, the amount of food she could put away was almost disturbing, but with the calories she usually expended daily, between her workouts and their _workouts_ , he supposed it shouldn’t be overly surprising. They walk over to Lafitte’s Blacksmith Bar for a Voodoo Daiquiri in a styrofoam cup for her and a scotch for him, and sit at one of the little tables just outside the bar. Really, her drink is a disturbingly purple-colored slushy that _tastes_ like the color purple, but she’s in raptures, and that’s the only thing that matters. She goes back in for another, coming out with a bottle of water for him, and they walk on. It was fascinating, really, that it was completely legal and socially acceptable to walk around with alcohol in go-cups on the streets here. _Vastly_ different from Disneyland! Made him less likely to stab anyone's eyes out when they stared at Harley.

Finally walking down to the “bad” side of Bourbon Street, he sees what some of the fuss was about. With the sun down and dinnertime over, the children have been put to bed, and the adults are out and ready to party. There are several frat houses strewn with ribbons and beads of all colors, girls in dresses tinier than Harley’s, and buskers plying their trade. When he feels Harley pull up short, he stops and looks over at her quizzically. Following her line of sight, he sees a busker that looks like…him? She does several double-takes, whipping her head between him as Jack and the busker as Joker, clearly mildly confused in her drink-addled state.

Laughing, he whispers, “I know you have an epic thing for _The Joker_ , doll. Want to go talk to him?”

“I…what?” she asks, staring at him.

Turning her so that she’s facing him, he runs his hands through her hair and repeats his question. When she still looks adorably confused, he takes her hand and walks with her to the half-naked busker.

“Tattoos are awesome, man,” Joker says in his best impression of a laid-back California accent, shoving his hands into his front pockets. “Do you have to apply them, like, every night, or are any of them real?” he asks the busker.

The guy looks at him for a moment, as if trying to place the overly familiar face, before explaining that they’re long-lasting temporary tattoos that last a few weeks before he has to reapply them.

“So, why’d you chose to busk as Joker? Isn’t he, like, some kind of supervillain in Gotham? I mean, from the pictures, you could totally _be_ him, but why not, like, Batman?” Harley giggles, gripping J’s arm as she peers at the false tattoos.

“He’s fascinating, that’s why! He’s this sociopathic gangster that kills indiscriminately, but he defies all that with Harley Quinn and seems willing to do just about anything for her! Plus, when you’ve got this body,” he tells them, motioning to his own abs, “why not show it off to its full extent?” At this, he beams at Harley and Joker as if they’ll readily agree with him, and they obediently nod their heads.

“Cool, man, cool,” J tells him as he nods and throws a crumpled-up one-hundred-dollar bill into the hat in front of the busker. Harley giggles as they walk away and on to the next bar.

“Did you hear that, _Jack_? Joker seems willing to do just about anything for his Harley. Think that’s true?” she giggles, threading her arm through his and leaning against him as they walk.

He pauses in the middle of the blocked-off street, threading a hand through her hair as he swoops in for a quick kiss. “Anything, doll, absolutely anything,” he says, smiling fondly down at her.


	2. Red Dresses as Far as the Eye Can See

Harley wakes to the sound of thumping, and she’s fairly certain her head is trying to explode. Fuck, was the sound her _heart_?! How could _that_ be too loud? She groans and tries to put a pillow over her head but soon realizes that there’s no going back to bed. She reaches out to Joker’s side of the bed, and finding it cold and empty, cracks an eye open in search of him. Not finding him in the immediate vicinity of her barely cracked eye, she finally sits up and looks around the room. She finds a cup of orange juice and a bottle of aspirin on her bedside table, as well as a note telling her to follow instructions for once and that he’d be back soon. Beautiful man, her Joker. Always trying to take care of her!

She downs the pills and juice as she tries to remember all of the events of the previous night. She remembered the busker dressed as “Joker,” several more bars, and then she vaguely remembers dancing in the street and a nightcap on the balcony? How much had she _drunk_? Since the acid bath, it had been almost impossible to get drunk, so really, last night she _must_ have drunk her body weight in alcohol. After dinner, had there been no carbs? No snacks? Nothing to help sop up the alcohol sloshing through her stomach? _How_ had she let that happen?! She used to be so good in college, eating crackers and interspersing the alcohol with water throughout the night. Had it really been _that_ long since she’d gone out binge drinking, that she’d become lackadaisical?

If she wanted to continue to make sure that her liver was in perfect working order while on this vacation, she’d need to make sure to bring crackers with her. And she’d seen the _perfect_ purse while out adventuring with Joker yesterday! Clapping her hands…and immediately regretting it when her head tried to run away from her body, she gets up and begins preparations for the day. She enjoyed being tan again (yay, spray tans!), but the amount of _work_ that went into making sure all of the tattoos were covered was a trial, even if she didn’t have quite as many as Mistah J. Today, she decided to leave the “Property of No One” with the huge joker skull on her back be. She’d missed being branded, and really, it wasn’t as obvious a branding as her chest or arm tattoos, or even the tiny little heart on her face.

She’s just sliding her short shorts on when Joker saunters into the room, holding a small box under his arm and looking pleased as punch. Really, she knew he was up to no good when he had that grin on his face, and she couldn’t _wait_ to find out what it was. Cocking her hip and raising an eyebrow, she continues getting ready, knowing that J would let her in on his secret when he was good and ready, and no amount of attempting to find a tickle spot would work (and really, she had _yet_ to find that damn tickle spot). When she’s finally putting her hair up in a high ponytail, he leans in, pulls the strap of her camisole aside, and kisses the still-bare tattoo on her shoulder blade. She shivers at the light touch and, before he can muss up her hard work, dances out of his reach.

Giving her an exasperated huff (really, the amount of exasperated huffs he’d given her over the years could likely fill a damn blimp!), he gives her one of his rare shy smiles as he offers her the wrapped box. Shaking it gently, lest there be something breakable inside, she concludes that there is not and proceeds to tear the wrapping and box apart to get to her present.

Squealing, she drops it on the bed and jumps into Joker’s arms. Really, he _should_ be pleased as punch! That Cheshire grin was completely warranted, and she lets him know by giving him quick tiny kisses all over his face until she reaches his mouth. But he’s unwilling to take the quick peck on his lips she tries to give and instead wraps his arms tightly around her and proceeds to kiss her thoroughly and deeply. She’s practically a puddle of need by the time he lets her go, and his Cheshire grin only widens at the faux-nasty look she gives him. She would _not_ be sidetracked from going out today. She _wouldn’t_!

Stepping from the protective (and need-inducing) circle of his arms, she looks in the mirror to fix her lipstick and slings her new purse over her shoulder. When she opens it to put her makeup essentials in, she finds that J has already stocked it with crackers and snacks. Really, could he _get_ any better?!

“I’ll meet you downstairs, doll,” he tells her over his shoulder, that grin still solidly in place. The _ego_ on the man! She smiles fondly at his back and thinks that, really, that ego was well deserved, especially where she was concerned.

Slipping on her strappy sandals, she heads downstairs, and out into the world they go. First to the former convent and their tiny museum, then down to Jackson Square, where all of the artists sold their wares against the garden's huge black gates. She absolutely loved the amount of art strewn across the railings and the music being played.

Putting her head on Joker’s shoulder as they stand listening to one of the jazz musicians play, she lets her eyes close and basks in the moment. It was absolutely magical, and to be here with Mistah J, even if he _was_ “Jack” at the moment, was just…magnificent. This was a city of love and life and music, and she didn’t know how she’d ever let it go.

But she supposed she’d have to. She’d let Disneyland go, after all, and that had been sublime. Though she figured there was always Disney _World_ to look forward to!

Tugging Joker on after a time, they stop by Café Du Monde on Decatur Street before heading to dinner and then on to the evening of drinking! As usual when in an unfamiliar territory, Joker chose not to imbibe overmuch, choosing to instead stay clear-headed for the both of them. Tonight goes a good deal better, what with her snacks and the amazingly adorable toast-shaped purse (weren’t the tiny legs so just _cute_?!) to remind her to eat said toasty little snacks. She may drink her weight in alcohol again and set them back a few hundred dollars, what with her own drinks and the rounds she buys for random strangers, but she’s able to remember every little moment of it the next day.

When she wakes and stretches the next morning, the blaring headache of yesterday morning was pleasantly absent, and the absent paramour from the previous morning was pleasantly present! Turning over so that she can face the gorgeous specimen of a man wrapped around her like a starfish, she sighs in happiness. His hair was ruffled from turning over in his sleep, and his lips were slightly open, his chest heaving, but he looked peaceful. She knew that he still, after all this time, didn’t sleep as much as she’d like, but he did better when they were together.

Though reluctant to wake him, Harley let her hand slide down his arm to his waist, playing with the elastic of his sweats, needing to touch him. Just as she began to delve past the elastic at his hips, her fingertips just grazing his still-soft member, Joker’s hand latched onto her wrist with no warning of his movement and slowly pulled her hand back up his body. Putting the captured hand firmly on his chest, he slowly peeled open his eyes to stare down at her with a crooked smile.

“I believe sustenance is in order first, Harl,” he growls, entwining their fingers.

Making an over-the-top pout with her bottom lip, she looks at him and jokingly whines, “But I was about to _receive_ sustenance!”

Smiling a full Joker toothy grin, he captures her mouth with his, languidly stroking his tongue against hers briefly before pulling away and sitting up. Running his hands through his sadly still brown hair, he gets up and stretches his arms over his head, letting her admire the muscles of his shoulders bunching and his broad expanse of chest arching towards her. Sighing, she takes a moment longer to pout before bouncing up and out of bed, already excited for the day.

“So, today is the Red Dress Run, and even though we’re not actively doing the run, I’ve made sure we donated, and I have our outfits all picked out!” Harley chirps perkily.

“Noooo, absolutely not, no fucking way Harley,” he says, looking at her in horror.

 _Silly man to think he really has a choice_ , the voices in her head giggle. Running her hands up his bare chest, she smiles at him with her most saccharine smile. “Now, Puddin’, I’ve made sure you’ll be the belle of the ball, and you can even wash away Jack for the day if you want! The Batshits would never believe that _The Real Joker_ would be traipsing around New Orleans in a bright red dress! How fun will it be to have pictures of _us_ on this trip? Not silly Jack and Jill, but Harley and Mistah J?” Seeing doubt still written clearly across his features, she runs her hands up and through his hair and whispers against his lips, “Please, Puddin,’ I’ve missed seeing _you_.”

She can feel it the moment he bends to her will as he growls and captures her mouth in a brutal kiss, his hands running down her back to press her flush against him. But it lasts only a moment before he breaks away and reminds her that they need food.

After a quick shower, she hums happily at the sight of both of them back to their normal selves and practically purrs at the vision that was Joker with all of his tattoos showing again. Pulling out their clothes, she can almost see the growl vibrating up J’s chest when he sees what she’s brought for him.

“Harley,” Joker rumbles in warning, and she just turns her brightest smile on him.

“I _promise_ you won’t be alone!” she chirps, practically bouncing around the room. As soon as she’s dressed, she bounds out of the room and away from his current ire, taking the red tie over to Johnny, who was finally going to be joining them.

When she gets to Johnny and his wife’s room, she can hear him grumbling, “No, no I will not, Stace,” before a murmured reply, too low for Harley to hear. Knocking, she waits for Stacy’s word of approval to enter and can’t help laughing at the sight before her.

“Johnny, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dressed so fine!” she giggles, clutching the tie to her chest at the sight of the big man in a beautiful strapless red dress that reminded her of Audrey Hepburn in Funny Face. “If it makes you feel any better, Joker hates me just as much as you hate Stacy right now!” she tells him, waving her hands in the general direction behind her before slowly backing out of the door, still giggling.

When she gets down to the kitchen, she lays the now useless tie on the counter and is just in time to grab the door as their food delivery arrives. She’d had a feeling Joker wouldn’t want to go to breakfast in a dress, so she’d planned ahead, though she has to suppress the chuckle that threatens to escape as the poor delivery boy walks in laden with bags. It looks like she’s ordered for a whole house party!

After breakfast, she takes Joker’s arm, and all four of them walk out the door, with only a few grumbles from the two men. Really, you’d think Harley had threatened to shave Joker’s head at the rate he was grumbling! “You look gorgeous, Puddin’,” she tells him, trying for soothing as she plays with the little feathers at his shoulders.

They get stopped every few yards with compliments to both men’s outfits and even have to stop for quite a few pictures. By the time early afternoon rolls around, both men are practically preening at the attention, and Harley has to stifle her giggles every time someone requests a picture with the ‘Scarlet Joker’ as she’s started calling him in her head. Really, Joker _does_ look amazing dressed in the iconic red dress from Gone with the Wind with its feathers as shoulder pads and down the back of the dress, and the dark red and black wingtip shoes she’d paired with it. It was fun to see him in _her_ colors for a change, and Harley can’t help the smile that’s practically causing her cheeks to ache at the sight of him. She’d wanted a dress that would show off as many of Joker’s tattoos as possible while still looking flamboyant, and short of having him go as Jessica Rabbit, she’d been unable to think of anything more suitable than Scarlet O’Hara. And really, Harley had wanted Mrs. Rabbit to herself. She did look epic if she did say so herself. What with the over-the-elbow purple satin gloves, sequined heart neckline with its nonexistent sides and back that showed off nearly all of her tattoos, and the slit that came almost all the way up her right leg, she looked absolutely edible. Joker had even twirled her along the sidewalk a few times once he’d realized how very many men were out in red dresses as well.

As afternoon fell into evening, Harley had already eaten her weight in carbs and had restocked her spiffy purse with the essentials for the night to come. Johnny and Stacy had separated from them to go back to the apartments and relax, while Harley had dragged Joker from place to place, reveling in the fun of the town. They’d stopped to listen to a jazz band in one of the seedier-looking bars for a time before Harley began worrying about all of the irresponsible adults on Bourbon Street. Really, those poor souls had no one else to turn to who would remind them to eat carbs and drink a bottle of water on occasion to help sop up the alcohol!

Decision made, she tells Joker her plan, and, while he sighs, he gives her one of his sideways grins and agrees.

xxxxxx

He adored her, he really did, but Harley could be absolutely _exhausting_ at times. The day had been spent walking all over the French Quarter in the ridiculously fabulous dress (he _did_ have to hand it to her, the woman knew his style, even if he _did_ grumble the whole time), and now they were off to feed the masses of Bourbon Street. Really, why they couldn’t just relax and have fun like any other couple while on vacation was a mystery. By making them dress as Jack and Jill while here, he’d been hoping to curb some of her more insane inclinations and prevent a Disneyland-like escapade all over again, but he sighs and supposes that there was only so much he could do to curb those tendencies. And if he was being honest with himself, all she had to do was wiggle her ass in that Jessica Rabbit dress, and he’d obey just about any command. Even if he _did_ like to pretend that he was the one in charge.

As they do the nightly Bourbon bar crawl that Harley has insisted on, his overly zealous partner tries to feed the damn city. Really, it _was_ adorable watching her eat her crackers and encourage others to eat _something_ while she was around. She’d even made it into a game at one of the bars, agreeing to buy a round of drinks after each patrons' carb intake. He knew they were the King and Queen of Gotham and had more money than Croesus, more than either of them could spend in several lifetimes, but her pub crawls were going to be the death of their main accounts by the time they left this city! He had even stopped looking at the bills when given to him and instead just handed over his card with a grimace.

By the time they get back to their apartments, he’s about ready to ignore getting undressed for simply falling into the bed, and into an exhausted sleep, when he hears Harley call out for him in the walk-in closet.

As soon as he’s helped the minx out of her dress and slips from his own, and almost as soon as his head hits the pillows, he falls into a deep and dreamless sleep, his body wrapping around hers, protecting her and making sure that she’s still with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Joker and Johnny's dresses: https://www.vogue.fr/fashion-culture/fashion-exhibitions/diaporama/the-most-iconic-red-dresses-in-cinema/48007?image=5c361706b0a45762977396ac
> 
> Harley's toast purse: https://us.romwe.com/Toast-Shaped-Crossbody-Bag-p-865196-cat-1031.html
> 
> Red Dress Run is a real thing that happens in NOLA the first week in August every year and is absolutely EPIC. The men dress better and try harder than the women for the most part, and just like every get-together, it's a chance to drink and party, and just have ridiculous fun. The hubs and I went a few years ago (having no idea that the RDR was happening) and though neither of us had brought a red dress, there were SO many people out and about! I will never forget the guy that had a huge bell-skirt dress that was very Gone with the Wind with a huge hat, lacy umbrella and Converse All-Stars...all in red.


	3. Homeward Bound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a bit of smut-adjacent (where we start the smut but veer off before we can get anywhere fun) and some arterial spray, so fair warning!

Over the next several days, there is more booze, more seafood, more carbs, and the occasional water and rest break before Joker is too bloody tired to go on. As Harley, nay, Jill Napier, pulls her poor begrudged “Jack” behind her to the next spot on her to-do list one evening, he finally digs his heels into the pavement, in a very literal sense. Pulling her into an almost pitch-black alleyway between buildings with no notice, he captures her mouth and sucks on her bottom lip before roughly shoving his tongue between her lips.

Grabbing fistfuls of the front of his shirt, Harley aggressively shoves his back against the brick wall, claiming control of the kiss, moaning huskily into his mouth. Yes, he’d just had her this morning, but that was _hours_ ago, and he can already feel his brain being deprived of oxygenated blood as it traveled to other, more urgent, parts of his anatomy. As her hands travel up his chest to his hair, pulling lightly, Joker bodily pushes her up against the rough brick on the other side of the wall, knowing that it’s likely scraping her skin in the micro-dress she’s currently in. As she growls, he eats the sounds until she wrenches her head away from him and curses loudly, begging him to stop even as her body begs him to continue. Joker buries his nose behind her ear, biting down lightly, and it’s only as he’s violently wrenched away from Harley by his shoulder that he registers the newcomer in the alleyway. 

“Get the fuck off of her,” the valiant good Samaritan snarls, “she said no!”

Harley looks shocked at the interruption and looks from Joker to the unknown assailant, her brow furrowing as she clearly tries to remember what she’d been hollering out. Stepping back from Harley and a little further down the dark alley, he encourages the stranger to follow him with a sneering look, raising his hands like he has nothing up his sleeves.

The poor idiot looks at Harley and offers her his hand, and says gently, “Ma’am, let’s get you out of this alley and back onto the street.” When he notices her unshed tears glistening in the little light available, the dolt grabs Harley’s hand, clearly trying for comforting and not understanding the rage those tears represent.

“You were telling me no, doll,” Joker directs at Harley, leaning against the brick wall while still staring at the nitwit. “I believe your exact words were, ‘dear god no, please stop, please, no’?” He smiles toothily as he sees the confusion lift from her face out of the corner of his eye, still keeping the majority of his focus on the featherhead in front of him. She plays it up for all she’s worth for a moment, putting her other hand to her mouth as if trying to suppress a “sob,” but is unable to stifle the peal of laughter that rings out instead of a sob. It’s the dolt’s turn to look confused as he gives Harley his full attention.

“Ma’am?” the knobhead questions.

As she drops the good Samaritan's hand to double over, gripping her sides in laughter, Joker sidles up behind the pillock and slits his throat from ear to ear with his vintage-style straight razor. As the poor dear’s throat splits open like a second smile, he turns to face Harley, gushing a good deal of arterial spray on her face and chest. She quickly closes her eyes and gaping mouth, unwilling to contract anything, should the stranger carry anything sneaky in his veins. Really, they may be immune to most blood-borne pathogens, poisons, or chemicals, but there was no need to test what they could and could not get with some random stranger’s spurting blood! Grabbing the lummox and turning him around, Joker slips his finger into the gaping hole and says over the man’s gurgling, “Some lessons are learned the hard way, my dear fellow. And death is the hardest way there is!”

As soon as Harley has wiped the blood from her eyes and opened them to see the still bloody razor by his side, she exclaims, “Oh Pud’!” and bounds up to him, practically draping herself against him as she sings, “‘We’ll grow old together / By the seaside / By the beautiful sea,” in her best impression of a cockney accent.

“‘Anything you say,’” Joker deadpans in his own cockney accent, causing Harley’s laughter to ring out once more as she pushes the now almost-dead spud away from them.

As Joker’s hand caresses her throat, now covered in what would be bright red blood were it daytime, she whispers, “‘With the fishies splashing / By the sea / Wouldn’t that be smashing / Down by the sea…Come on, darling / Give us a kiss / Ooh, that was lovely,’” she finishes, biting her lower lip. Backing her slowly against the brick wall again, he slides his hand up so that his thumb can pull her lower lip from her mouth with a wet-sounding pop before crushing his mouth against hers. He puts the blade back in his pocket and slides a hand down her neck, sternum, and belly until he finally reaches the edges of her underwear.

Lightly fingering the cloth, he realizes that it’s more than just her usual micro-thong. Separating his mouth from hers, he looks down and asks while playing with the edge of her boy-short undies, “Harl, since when do you own anything but micro-underwear?”

“Well, this dress is _really_ short, and if I sit wrong or lift my legs a bit too high while walking, someone might _see_ , and well, if I was wearing the normal micros and they got sucked up into my hooha, then everyone would see my Venus flytrap all closed around its prize! I have _zero_ interest in my little flower showing up on social media for the Bats to see, you know?!”

He can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous statement, shaking his head at her. Looking down at his phone, he sends a quick text to Johnny to pick them up at his phone’s location shortly, making sure to block off the alley when he arrives before attacking her mouth with his again.

As soon as he opens his mouth to express what he wants from her, she whispers, “Let’s go home, Puddin. I miss Gotham,” playing with the little hairs at the base of his skull. He closes his mouth and lightly runs the tip of his nose against hers before kissing the tip and nodding.

Not paying any attention to her surroundings, Harley leans down to inspect the very dead good Samaritan and grabs his watch off before also grabbing the wallet in his jeans pocket, for good measure. Finally paying attention, she looks to the alleyway's mouth and sees it blocked off by a large black car. She turns, smiles at Joker before bounding over to the car and hopping into the backseat without ever looking at who the car might belong to. Leaning down, he looks at and then kicks the dunce for good measure before turning his own attention to the alleyway’s end.

Shaking his head, Joker slips into the SUV's back seat beside Harley, nodding briefly at Johnny through the rearview mirror. He can see Johnny raise an eyebrow at the blood that seems to still be covering the majority of Harley’s face, neck, and chest. Joker smiles toothily at the vision that is Harley drenched in blood and pulls her over to his side of the seat, ignoring the need for a seatbelt. She leans her head against his shoulder, falling almost instantaneously asleep, and he envies that ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat. Once they’re back at their residence, he puts his arms behind her back and under her legs and gently picks her up to carry her through the doors that Johnny opens for them and up to their rooms.

Making sure that her arms are wrapped around his neck, he uses the hand behind her back to turn on the faucet of the tub and throw a few bath salts that smell disgustingly sweet into the mix. Kicking off his shoes and slipping out of his pants, he leaves his socks and shirt on (really, _how_ was he supposed to get them off with a Harley attached to his chest?) before he lowers them both into the huge steaming tub. He closes his eyes briefly at the feeling of the warm water and can feel Harley cuddle up further against his chest, burying her head into his neck. Letting his head rest against the edge of the tub, he gently rubs a hand against her lower back as she breathes deeply against his neck.

He’s not sure how long he dozes off for, but it can’t be more than a few minutes as the bath is still steaming when he feels Harley beginning to stir. The water is already cloudy with the filth of their sweat and the stranger’s blood, and though reluctant to separate them, he knows that they both need to clean the blood off. Joker sits up and opens the drain of the tub, letting the dirty water flow out. Stepping out, he picks Harley up bridal style when she stands up and carries her to the separate shower. Together they clean off the blood of the unknown good Samaritan, and he helps Harley wash her back, scraping his fingernails against her scalp as he washes her hair for her, enjoying the purrs that rumble up her chest at the pampering. It’s his way of saying sorry for any bruising on her body without having to put it into words. He enjoys washing “Jill” off of his Harley, and he sees the same pleasure reflected back as she helps to get rid of “Jack,” his green hair shining through as the temporary dye washes out and the tattoos slowly but surely showing as he scrubs the false tan away.

Once they’re dried and back to their right and proper selves, he lays down in the huge bed, and Harley snuggles against his chest, wrapping an arm and leg around him, so close she might as well be laying on top of him.

As he falls into sleep, he couldn’t be happier to know that they’re _finally_ going home tomorrow, back to their own bed and away from this city of heat and humidity and cockroaches, back to terrorizing the Bat and his wards and back to terrorizing an entire city’s denizens. He was ready to put Jack and Jill Napier away for a while, even if seeing Harley with a ring on that finger _had_ stirred something low in his belly that made him feel distinctly uncomfortable.

_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> As always, please let me know what you thought - kudos and comments go a long way!
> 
> Any kind of feedback is appreciated, even if it's not great! You can always send me an email as well if you're nervous about posting here!


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